


works: anime

by salemswritings (fukomacore)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:47:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27157471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fukomacore/pseuds/salemswritings





	1. drabble: bnha

On the eve of Katsuki’s tenth birthday, his father called for him a few minutes before midnight struck.

“Double-digits, huh?” Masaru was sitting in his favorite armchair sporting a book, most likely for decoration. He put the book down on the coffee table in front of him and tapped his lap.

“Like hell I’m going to sit on your lap.” Katsuki huffed. Instead, he took a seat on the floor in front of his father’s chair.

“Oh well then,” –he pushed his glasses up on his face– “I guess we’re doing it like this.”

Katsuki respected his father, of course, but it was almost midnight and he was about to turn ten. This had better be important considering the circumstances at play.

“If you’re going to listen to anything I say, make sure that it’s what I’m about to say here.” Masaru cleared his throat and straightened his posture in his chair. “My dad told me this right before I turned eleven, but I just feel like I should tell you this now.

Before your eighteenth birthday, you’ll have four lessons to learn. Just four, and it’s all before you turn eighteen. You might have the first one already, but that still leaves three more.”

Katsuki blinked a few times before bringing his eyes up to meet those of his father’s.

“That sounds stupid.” he remarked plainly. “If I really do have these ‘lessons’ to learn, what are they?”

“I can’t tell you that, it’s personal to you.”

“Whatever, I’m going to go to bed.” Katsuki went back into his room and tucked himself in.  _ Really? What a load of bullshit.  _ He watched the ceiling and thought for a few minutes.

He knew what his first lesson was.


	2. drabble: homestuck

Noises of pots clanging and assorted teenage trolls screaming became too commonplace in Dave’s life. Karkat was probably throwing another tantrum, most likely caused by Vriska. Judging by the cacophony of pain that was bleeding through Dave’s doorframe, Karkat probably got hit with an iron skillet that Rose had brought.

“Rose’ll kill those poor aliens.” He said out loud to no one in particular.

“Goddammit I have fucking had it with these fuckbagging shitlickers-” Karkat’s voice was becoming stronger and more grating as he continued his sentence.

The door was kicked open in a not-so-graceful way but it was Karkat for crying out loud.

“The doorknob was right there, right there, Karkles. It’s probably wondering why you ghosted it and refused to turn it’s pretty little self in order to let yourself into my room. Shameful,” Dave said while clicking his tongue and shaking his head. Instead of Karkat’s usual rage-filled response that Dave had totally expected, Karkat had thrown himself onto Dave’s cold, hard floor.

“I cannot believe those nooksuckers, Dave. I’m ignoring that fact that you used that godawful name again because I am so unbelievably mad-” -Dave went to go lay down next to Karkat’s pitiful form-”-at these fuckasses. Going after my blood color? Making silly little jokes that a grub could come up with even with their partially formed thinkpan?”

The troll stopped right there, having chosen to let out a deep sigh of exasperation in its stead. He said that he “didn’t give a flaming shit” about the blood hierarchy in the first place, but Dave knew better than that.


	3. small study: karkat tantrum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lots of capital letters, and a lot of swearing

IN WHAT CONVOLUTED ASSFUCKING WORLD, IS IT OKAY TO USE A SIX FUCKING YEAR OLD RELATIONSHIP TO BREAK UP WITH MY HUSBAND. AND! ON THE PHONE TOO LIKE AN EMOTIONALLY CONSTIPATED ANGSTY TEENAGER WHO PUNCHES HOLES IN THEIR DRY WALL WHEN THEIR LUSUS DOES NOT ALLOW THEM TO GORGE THEMSELVES ON MIND HONEY LIKE A DRUG ADDICT PIG. I KNOW WRIGGLERS THAT COULD HANDLE EMOTIONAL PROBLEMS BETTER THAN YOU! WHAT IN THE FUCKBAGGING SHITSPEWING RAZZMATAZZ OF GO FUCK YOURSELF IN THE ASS WERE YOU THINKING? WE HAVE NOT DATED FOR MORE THAN TWO SWEEPS, AND YOU ARE LEADING MY HUSBAND ON LIKE A WRIGGLER DOING BUSINESS IN DOG WALKING TO PAY FOR A NEW DANCESTOR DOLL. ALL THAT BLITHERING NOOKFUCKING ASSCLOWN SHIT JUST TO FIGURE OUT YOU’RE NOT OVER ME. NOW OF ALL TIMES! YOU BROKE UP WITH ME FUCKASS! THAT WAS YOUR OWN DOUCHEFUCKING SHITSUCKING FAULT! TO WHAT DILAPIDATED SECTION OF YOUR BUSTED THINKPAN CAN I CREDIT THIS MAGNIFICENT IDEA TO?


	4. prologue: iwaoi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a fic i'm definitely still working on

If anyone knew about most of the work that’s done at IRON, children would probably not want to become an agent when they’re older. Most kids nowadays want to become a future IRON special-ops agent, which is a horrific idea, really.

  
Hajime was digging marks into his desk with his nails, he just had them done so it was quite a shame to his manicurist.

  
“God damn it, Shittykawa.” Hajime grunts through his clenched teeth. He was trying to find more information on whatever Oikawa’s next move would be. Hajime had thought he knew Oikawa inside and out, but recent events have been proving him wrong and it’s tearing the poor agent apart on the inside.

  
“Trying to track down loverboy, am I correct?” It didn’t take Hajime even a moment to recognize that smartass voice in his head.

  
“Can it, Kuroo.”

  
“Was I wrong, though?” Kuroo had an awfully snide grin on his face, which worked perfectly with his seemingly permanent bedhead. Hajime was sitting down, so Kuroo looked even taller than he usually did, which was already alot. He was a fellow member of the special-ops serving under the Manager. As much as Hajime can’t stand how much of a smartass he is, he has to admit that Kuroo gets the job done.

  
“By the way, once you’re done brooding over your computer, K-the Manager wants to talk with you. Did you fuck up or something?” If Kuroo had said her name on the floor, the Manager would have his head, literally.

  
“No. At least I don’t think I have.” Hajime let out a loud sigh before throwing his head into his hands. As if trying to find his estranged childhood friend wasn’t enough of a damper on his day.

* * *

“Bang!” Tooru shouted excitedly. The bullet escaped from his pistol with hardly any noise, and went right into Mr. Gol’s temple, just where he wanted it. The man fell over with an anti-climatic thud, which sent the guards around him in a frenzy.

  
Tooru was impressed with himself, such a small window to strike and he didn’t even graze the jacket of the one guard. He could revel in his success later, he had to get out of there.

  
He swung himself up from his position on the floor, landing on top of one of the many metal structures in the large warehouse. One of those bozos had to have spotted him, because Tooru could hear the guns being pulled out from their holsters.

  
“Tsk tsk, this won’t do at all,” Oikawa scrunched his face after he threw himself behind a crate filled with cocaine. “I guess we’re doing this the hard way then.”  
One guard dropped down, the others still shooting blindly. Tooru had dropped down to the musty floor of the warehouse, and rolled behind a metal structure with small holes in its beams. Shoving the tip of his gun into the hole, he took a few of the guards down.

  
From behind him, Tooru felt cold metal press into his hair.

  
“Who are you,” a gruff voice muttered to him.

  
“Just running some errands for Ushiwaka,” Tooru rolled his eyes and before the guard could even blink, Tooru had him pinned onto the floor with the gun against his forehead. “My my, Ushiwaka always has me do such boring things for his errands, he could always just do them himself, you know?” Bang.

  
“But that’s not how the Messiah rolls, I guess.”

* * *

“Iwaizumi, you can come in!” Yachi pulled the door behind her shut, the door to the Manager’s office. “Manager’s a little grumpy right now, but I’m sure you’re not in trouble. They like you a lot, you know.”

  
Sure didn’t feel like it.

  
“Alright then, thank you, Yachi.”

  
Yachi gave him a pitiful look before moving to go down the hallway. She was always so sweet, the poor girl. A lot of the other special-ops members were intimidating to her, not on purpose of course. Her blond ponytail swayed to her other shoulder while she pivoted her heel.

  
“I’m sorry about Oikawa.” Right. All of the special-ops members knew about Hajime’s past with Oikawa. He didn’t appreciate the pity, but if someone else were in the same position he would probably do the same thing.

  
Hajime blocked that out of his mind while he opened the door to the office. Still had the charm of a small, homely office while being hopelessly gigantic.

  
“Manager-san.” Hajime bowed from a respectable distance from her desk.

  
“Iwaizumi, I told you, you don’t have to be so formal with me,” The Manager clicked their tongue and scooted back in their chair. “I wanted to talk to you about Oikawa.”  
He shouldn’t have expected any less. Trying to locate Oikawa and stop his next move was about as fruitful as a literal vegetable. Hajime kept feeling like he was so close to finding him, but Oikawa was always one step ahead, the little shit.

  
“Oikawa has assassinated the mayor of New York City, Mr. Gol.” Hajime almost dropped dead to the floor. Oikawa was in the city? He could… no. Not right now. It didn’t matter what his relationship was to his objective. He would complete it.

  
“I’m sorry I have failed again.” Hajime said solemnly.

  
“Don’t be too upset, Iwaizumi. It was recently found out that Mr. Gol had been trafficking drugs and kids, all while paying off members of the council to stay quiet about it. One of our own agents too.” The Manager spoke firmly. Hajime didn’t even have to ask what happened to the traitor.

  
“Despicable.” Hajime felt sick to his stomach. Taking down horrific people like Mr. Gol, the “right” way, was what he joined the special-ops for. Oikawa was a step ahead of him, killing the man probably for his boss. Hajime didn’t want to think about the fact that Oikawa might’ve killed him without a thought to his crimes, and just to his orders.

  
“However, we do have some more information on Oikawa, gathered by myself. I wanted you to be the first to know.”

* * *

Ushijima’s office was hopelessly suffocating. The velvet carpet was dusty and it made Tooru’s allergies flare up. But Tendou had an affinity for velvet, so there was nothing that could be done about that. You couldn’t do anything about something in this organization if Tendou was behind it.

  
“He’s dead.” Tooru sang, leaning his weight on the mahogany desk in the middle of the office. Ushijima took off his glasses and put them on top of some files.

  
“Get your elbows off my desk.”

  
“What? No 'thank you'? No ‘well done’?” Tooru did, however, remove his elbows from the desk.

  
“You weren’t flawless. You still had to take down the guards.” Ushijima’s face was unfazed while he typed mindlessly on his laptop.

  
“But, I got it done, didn’t I? He was a top-notch target that even Shrimpy-chan struggled with.” Hinata had tried to put the moves on Dr. Gol, but even he couldn’t outdo his relentless guards.

  
“Kageyama would’ve done it flawlessly.” Ushijima deadpanned.

  
Tooru wasn’t going to listen to anymore of his bullshit. He went right back to his room silently. Hanamaki looked like he wanted to bother Tooru some more, but one glance at his eyes made him back off. That’s rare for Hanamaki.

  
“Fuck his natural talent!” Tooru yelled while he shot a hole into his wall. Kageyama had only been with the organization for a few months, but he was already the favorite for being able to do everything flawlessly. Tooru doubted that he had even worked that hard. He spent his entire life training for this, right when he was picked up from the orphanage near the end of high school by Ushijima himself. Vomiting blood, collapsing from exhaustion, and having broken bones constantly. Kageyama had endured none of that to get where he was now.

“I’ll fucking show him alright, what I can do. Nothing that boy genius can do.”


	5. prologue: kuroken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i definitely did not drop this! nope! mention of sex

It isn’t all that worrying to Kenma when he spends almost his entire day inside of his office. But for Kuroo, it’s a slightly different story. He knows that Kenma will eventually take care of his own needs if things do get dire. The rooster-headed fool just can’t help but worry, but he’s been like this for the ten years that they’ve known each other.

“Ah, I died.” Kenma deadpanned to his streaming audience. He was currently in the middle of a long-winded live stream and his character had just been shot in the head.

“Whatever, it’s fine. I have been playing for a really long time…” The chat was disappointed.

**soapsoul:** lmao

 **pyr0p3t3r3:** No Don’t Leave

 **Kodzufan:** I just got on :(((

 **lanestreets:** calm down guys

“Relax guys. I’ll be streaming tomorrow too,” -he shut off the stream abruptly- “I just want to spend time with Kuroo.”

Kenma let out a sigh before standing up to stretch. A few creepily loud cracks later, he was up to wait for Kuroo to come home. Since he was a chemical engineer, he worked a lot outside of the house. He decided he might as well fall asleep for a bit waiting for him.

***

Kuroo tapped the door open with his foot since he was carrying bags of takeout. He kicked off his shoes and set the bags on the kitchen counter before loosening his tie.

“Kenmaaaaa!” He called in a sing-song voice.

“Mm.” A low grunt was heard from a bump on the couch.

“I brought you takeout. Get your overworked but really nice ass up.”

“Can it, won’t you?”

Kenma rolled over and smushed his face into one of the various throw pillows on their couch. Kuroo really liked buying ones that had those stupid quotes on them. The one Kenma happened to be using was _Live, Laugh, Love_. He didn’t get to enjoy the scratchy pillow for long before a pair of muscular arms scooped Kenma from his vegetable state.

“Put me down, Kuroo”

“You need to eat,” Kuroo pinches Kenma’s forearm lightly, “you’re too skinny.”

“Yeah okay, just put me down.” Kenma retorted with a little more malice in his deadpan voice.

The blocker finally relented and put him down, next to the kitchen table. Kuroo had ordered some ramen and takoyaki, presumably from the place across the street from their apartment. It did smell good. Kenma hadn’t really eaten all day, save for the bag of trail mix that he would eat while working. Kuroo is kind of a health nut so trail mix is probably the best Kenma would get.

“How was work?” Kenma asked.

He was breaking apart his chopsticks while Kuroo was thinking.

“Oh! It was fine, but I have to go away for about a week on Monday for some stupid convention.”

Kenma broke his chopsticks unevenly at that. As much as he’s used to being holed up in his office all day, Kuroo was still in the apartment or in the general area with him. A week without Kuroo sounded weird.

“I have to go to California! Ugh! Imagine how long the flight’s going to be!”

“Can I come with you?” Kenma asked before he knew what he was saying. Kuroo leaving meant that he could’ve had time to work without getting distracted by his stud of a boyfriend. He does like being “distracted” by Kuroo after all.

“Oh that’s a good idea! It’ll be like a vacation! We can finally be aloneeee~” Kuroo wiggled his eyebrows while saying that.

“Not a sex vacation Kuroo. I want to see California” Kenma would never admit that he couldn’t handle not being able to be held by Kuroo for a week.

“Ah, you’re no fun. Maybe Bokuto wants to come! With Akaashi, of course.” Kuroo lit up at his own idea and immediately pulled out his phone before Kenma could say anything. _I’m in love with a hopeless idiot_. Kenma says that in his head more often than he would like to. Well, an idiot who’s also a chemical engineer.

The last piece of takoyaki was shoved in Kenma’s mouth and he stood up to start making his way to bed.

“I have to be up early tomorrow. I have a video call at eight and I don’t understand how you can wake up before me.” Kenma mumbled with slightly bitter tone.

He ended up crashing into their shared bed face-first, too tired from having to interact with his subscribers. Kenma was half-asleep when he felt something jump on his back. It was undoubtedly Kuroo, so Kenma rolled out from under him after he caught the breath he lost.

“I love youuu~” Kuroo whispered.

“You almost broke my back.”

“Do I need to take you to the ER? You break bones so easily.”

“Relax, it was a joke.” Kenma softened being curled up in a blanket of Kuroo.

He put his face in the crook of Kuroo’s neck and kissed the bottom of his chin. He really did love to cuddle with Kuroo more than anything else. He just won’t admit it out loud, he needs to keep up his “tsundere” persona. Kuroo had pulled the comforter over both of them.

“I love you too, Kuro.” Kenma whispered. He turned his head to find Kuroo dead asleep. Being a chemical engineer seems pretty hard after all, he couldn’t blame him. But saying it was enough for Kenma for now. It’s enough to love him.


End file.
